


Shamir of Sherwood Forest

by floweringlight



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-23 02:03:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21312373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floweringlight/pseuds/floweringlight
Summary: Set after the war, Archbishop Byleth pines after the one who got away. Shamir has no idea.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Shamir Nevrand
Comments: 5
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still sore at IntSys for not letting me marry Shamir as f!Byleth so this is for me. Also, I love that her unpaired ending and two paired endings with Raphael and Leonie are basically a Fodlan equivalent of Robin Hood and Little John/Raphael. There will be a small Lysithea/Cyril pairing in the background. I refuse to believe that Cyril would let Lysithea die without trying to cure her. Flayn's crush is unrequited. Raphael's true love is food.

“Archbishop! A letter for you!” sang Flayn, prancing into the garden.

“ Flayn , please call me  Byleth . You know I don’t like titles,” she said, setting down her tea as she accepted the correspondence.  Byleth smiled, recognizing the scrawl. “It’s from Raphael. I’d know that messy handwriting anywhere.”

“Ooh!” exclaimed  Flayn , flouncing next to  Byleth . “What’s he up to?”

“Let’s see,”  Byleth said, unsealing the envelope. “It seems Raphael has left knighthood to help Shamir.”

“Help her with what?”

“He doesn’t say,”  Byleth replied, frowning. “But he does say that they’re planning to visit the monastery for supplies soon.”

“Goody!” 

“I’m glad. I haven’t heard anything from Shamir since the war ended.” Absently,  Byleth fiddled with her mother’s ring, which she wore on a chain. “I hope she has been well.”

“If she’s with Raphael, she’ll be fine. He’s super strong,”  Flayn assured her, faintly blushing. 

Byleth glanced sideways at  Flayn , smirking. “Does  Seteth know you two are friends?” 

“No, and you better not tell on me! You know how overprotective he is!” She scowled, crossing her arms.

Smiling,  Byleth replied, “I wasn’t planning on it.” She set the letter aside, picking up her teacup once more. She sipped her tea slowly, savoring the flavor. “If they’re coming, we better prepare some guest rooms,” she hinted at Flayn.

“Of course,” she replied gleefully. “I’ll start  right away!” 

Byleth sighed contentedly, watching  Flayn’s retreating form.  Finally, a bit of peace.

*

As days passed,  Byleth grew increasingly anxious waiting for Raphael and Shamir. Though others noticed her agitation, no one apart from  Flayn knew why.  Lysithea , frustrated with  Byleth’s distracted fidgeting, cornered her one afternoon and asked, “What is your problem?”

“I’m sorry?”  Byleth asked, confused.

“Your incessant twitching is driving all of us to distraction! And some of us are trying to achieve important work.”

Byleth sighed. “I see. My apologies. It wasn’t my intention to bother you, not when you’re so close to removing your Crests. I didn’t realize my anxiety was so visible.”

“Well okay then. Just...take care of whatever is bothering you. We need your attention here.”

“Of course,  Lysithea . It won’t happen again.”  Byleth placed a hand on  Lysithea’s shoulder absently, giving her a brief pat, and walked downstairs. 

She made her way to the marketplace, hoping to hear  Raphael’s booming voice among the weaponsmiths. Once again, she was disappointed. To appease the merchants, she bought some Crescent Moon tea and Almond blend, in case her awaited guests did appear. Tucking the purchases into her belt pouch,  Byleth wandered around the monastery grounds, greeting those working in the greenhouse and kitchen, solving problems that crossed her path. When she eventually reached her room,  Byleth set the tea on her desk and sighed wistfully. Perhaps a workout would help her focus. 

Byleth changed into more comfortable clothing and briskly headed to the training grounds. She hoped no one was too intimidated by her to spar with her. Since most of her former students had left to pursue their own lives,  Byleth had few partners to swing weapons at.  Seteth , she knew, was occupied at this time of day with paperwork. Cyril was doing his best to help  Lysithea , Hanneman, and Linhardt with Crest research. And Alois was always busy with the knights (who were afraid of her). 

To her surprise, a familiar giant was stretching in the yard. “Professor!” boomed Raphael. “There you are! I was just looking  for you !”

Byleth put her fist on her hip, pretending to frown at him. “You’re late. Do you know how worried I’ve been?”

He laughed. “Sorry, Professor.  Wanted to come earlier, but y ou know how Shamir is. She won’t leave ‘til she’s done. ”

“ Is that where she is ? I was looking forward to seeing her too.”

“She’ll be here later,” he told her. “ Had a few loose ends to clean up. She told me to come on ahead.” He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “I think my growling stomach was too distracting or something.”

“Where were you? We haven’t heard anything from you in a while.”

“All over the place,” he gestured. “There’s a lot of  Fodlan to see and a lot of people  needin ’ help. Shamir can tell you more when she gets here.”

“All right.”

“ Wanna fight?” Raphael punched his fists together eagerly. “It’s been a while since we sparred.”

Byleth nodded eagerly. This is what she came for; a proper fight.

*

Sweat dripped down  Byleth’s face as she and Raphael circled each other, panting hard. He feinted left before trying to punch right, but  Byleth saw through him. She had taught him that move, after all. She jabbed at his stomach and followed through with a swing to his neck. Raphael dodged, but only just.

“Missed me,” he huffed.  Byleth grinned and swept her leg under his knee, knocking him on his back. 

“You’re still neglecting your stance,” she said, landing her knee on his chest and holding her fist to his face. “Do you yield?”

He nodded and she helped him up. “Still have to get stronger, I guess.”

They heard a laugh and turned their heads towards the sound. Shamir leaned lazily in the doorway, hand on her hip. “Strength has nothing to do with it,” she said. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

“There are lots of ways to get strong,” Raphael argued. 

Shamir straightened and came forward, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Keep telling yourself that.” She nodded at  Byleth , saying, “Archbishop. It’s been a while.”

“It has,”  Byleth replied. “And please don’t call me that.”

Shamir smirked. “Still don’t like your title, huh?”

“Friends should use names, not titles,”  Byleth replied. She picked up a towel, wiping her face off. “It’s good to see you, Shamir.” She tossed Raphael a clean towel so he could do the same.

“Likewise. I assume Raphael has filled you in on what we’ve been doing?”

Byleth shook her head. “He told me you would explain.”

Shamir shot Raphael a look. He shrugged. “You’re better at  explainin ’ than me.” She scowled. “Besides, you two have a lot to catch up on.”

Byleth glanced at Shamir quizzically. Shamir looked away, unwilling to elaborate. “We can catch up tomorrow. I’m sure you two are tired and hungry. Please,”  Byleth gestured to the doorway, “don’t let me hold you two up.”

Raphael looked at Shamir and Byleth, trying to puzzle out the tension he was feeling between them.

“Go on ahead, Raphael. I know you’re hungry,” said Shamir, shooing him away. He smiled and waved at the two women before  bounding off to the dining hall. 

Shamir faced  Byleth and said, “Don’t be angry with him for the lack of communication. It was at my insistence.”

“I wasn’t upset. I was worried.”

“Oh.” Shamir said, putting a hand to her face. “I, uh, didn’t think about that. Sorry.”

“It’s all right. You’re here now and you’re both safe. That’s all I wanted to know.”

“You’re not curious about what we’ve been doing?”

“Sure. But I won’t pry.”

“We’re not together or anything, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Shamir stated, staring at the ground and scuffing at the dirt with her boot. Hearing that pleased Byleth. 

“Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t stay with Catherine.”

Shamir scoffed. “She was more than happy to leave me to go be with her precious Rhea. I would have been a third wheel.”

“You could have stayed here, with me,” Byleth mumbled, blushing.

“And do what? I need to feel useful,” Shamir said, still not meeting  Byleth’s eyes.

“I still need a spymaster. And while Alois is a good Captain, I still need someone to train my personal guard.”

“What about Leonie?”

“She left to marry Lorenz.”

Shamir laughed. “Her and that prissy brat? How did that happen?”

Byleth shrugged. “They’re good for each other. Besides, when you left, she was pretty upset that you didn’t ask her to join you. Lorenz made her feel needed.”

“I see.”

“She’s fine now.”

“Good. And for the record, I didn’t ask Raphael to join me either. He followed me after one of my jobs and well, sometimes I need a strongman.”

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me.”

“ Sure I do. They’re your kids.”

Byleth smiled. “I guess they are, in a way.”

“And they’re great kids. Even the prissy one.”

“I won’t tell Lorenz you said that.”

“Thanks. Now, want to join me for lunch?”

“After I clean up. I stink.”

Shamir grinned and said, “A bit, but I wasn’t going to mention it.” Shamir clasped  Byleth’s arm and said, “I’ll save you a seat.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth learns what Shamir was up to and proposes a mission. Shamir can't sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Cyril's bluntness and Shamir's prickliness. I had trouble with this chapter. For some reason, writing the bridge between the beginning and the end has always been difficult for me. So sorry if this feels OoC or rushed.

The warm water sloshed on  Byleth’s skin as she sank into the bath. Groaning at the stiffness in her muscles, she stretched. ‘I overdid it,’ she thought. ‘Still, I haven’t had a good match like that in a long time.’  Byleth scrubbed her body, soaping her hair as she mused over her meeting with Shamir. ‘I almost told her then. Why didn’t I?’ Water poured over her face as she rinsed off. ‘I’m a coward.’ Wringing her hair out,  Byleth stepped out of the bath, drying herself off with a towel. ‘I hope she really did save me a seat,’ she thought as her stomach growled.

Byleth hurriedly dressed, driven by her growling stomach and her desire to see Shamir. After months of missing her and worrying about her,  Byleth was going to take every bit of Shamir’s time as she could before she left again. Because she would leave again.  Byleth knew that for a fact. Shamir wasn’t the type to be tied down, even if she did marry.

Byleth entered the dining hall, pleased to see an empty spot next to Shamir. Instead of ordering her food, she slid onto the bench next to the sniper. 

“Shouldn’t you order your food?”

“In a bit. My muscles can’t handle standing in line right now. Besides, I want to hear all about your travels.”

“We didn’t go anywhere special. Just helped people out who were in trouble,” Shamir said, shrugging.

“How exactly did you meet up with Raphael? Last I heard he was in service to a lord.”

Raphael frowned. “Turns out, he was a bad one.”

“Bad as in he couldn’t do his job properly, or bad as in he was crooked?”

“He wasn’t feeding his people,” Raphael growled, slamming a fist on the table. “He had plenty of food, too.”

Shamir placed a hand over his fist, soothing the large man. “Raphael was sent to find out who was...liberating...excess food and giving it back to the people. He ran into me.”

“I see.” Reading between the lines,  Byleth understood that Shamir was responsible for the “liberation.” And Raphael joined her because he knew that Shamir had a code of honor that was honest if flexible. “If you have proof I can have him tried for crimes,”  Byleth reminded him.

“Nah,” Raphael said. “I think he’s learned his lesson now.”

“What did you do?” Byleth asked him, looking at Shamir.

“Nothing I’ll admit to,” she replied. 

“He promised to be good so you don’t have to worry,” Raphael said confidently.

“I’m going to get my dinner now,”  Byleth said, slowly standing up and wincing at her stiff muscles. “I can’t process this information on an empty stomach.”

When she returned,  tray in hand, Raphael had left. Seeing the question in  Byleth’s eyes, Shamir said, “ Flayn wanted to show him something.”

Nodding,  Byleth sat down. The two ate in companionable silence.  Having Shamir in close proximity distracted Byleth. She wanted to be closer, to press her thigh into Shamir’s and feel her body heat. She wanted more. 

Trying to distract herself from the lust springing into her mind,  Byleth set her flatware down and asked, “How long will you be here for?”

Shamir shrugged. “A couple days. Not much longer than that.”

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to stay in the area for longer? I might have a problem that your particular skills can solve.” 

“I’m not killing anyone anymore.”

“I would not ask that of you.”

“Some nobles would.”

“I am not a noble, no matter what title I have now.”

“If you say so.”

“Just hear me out.”

“I’m listening.” Shamir leaned her face on her fist, giving  Byleth her full attention.

“Recently some commoners came to the Church seeking aid. They said their liege lord had sent them to bring back food because they were starving and the harvest was poor. Except, when questioned further, they stopped speaking altogether and left, trembling. The women and men had bruises on their arms. The children were malnourished. I don’t believe their lord sent them for food at all. I believe he was the one responsible for their starvation. I have no proof and I need some if I’m to bring charges against him. Would you go for me? You know how to infiltrate and glean information the best out of all the people I trust.”

“I will,” promised Shamir, a cold fury glinting in her eyes. “And I’ll do more than that. I’ll bring you proof, not just whispers.”

“Thank you,”  Byleth sighed, her fingers curving involuntarily around Shamir’s own. 

Blushing slightly, Shamir pulled her hand away, muttering, “I haven’t done anything to be thanked yet.”

“You have never failed me.”

*

Shamir laid in bed, groaning. ‘Coming here was a mistake,’ she thought. ‘Why did I agree to this?’ Unbidden, the curve of  Byleth’s lips flashed into her mind. Shamir rolled over, punching the mattress in frustration. ‘I just want to sleep! Is that too much to ask?’ Burying her face in her pillow, Shamir yelled.

A knock on her door snapped her out of it. “Everything okay in there?” asked Raphael.

“I’m fine,” Shamir replied grouchily. “I just can’t sleep.”

“Go workout,” he encouraged. “That always helps me. If your muscles are tired then you’ll be tired.”

“You’re right,” Shamir said, shrugging on her jacket. “I’ll do that.” She opened her door and gave Raphael a quick pat on the shoulder. “Thanks for the advice. Now go back to sleep.”

“Don’t stay up too late.”

She nodded and strode down to the training yard. Shamir set up a few targets, picking out a longbow and some arrows. She wanted to be tired, and a longbow required a stronger pull. Soon, she lost track of time, arrow after arrow burying itself into the bulls-eye. “Why do you have to be so damn attractive?” Shamir muttered, punctuating her question with another arrow. “I should have stayed away.”

Shamir reached for another arrow, only to find her quiver empty. Aggravated, she strode over to the targets and began yanking the shafts out. “Stupid green eyes,” she grumbled.  _ Yank. _ “Stupid wavy hair.”  _ Yank. _ “Stupid tights.”  _ Yank. _

“Who has stupid tights?”

Startled, Shamir jumped backwards into a crouch, a throwing knife already in her hand. When she saw it was Cyril, she  relaxed. “You shouldn’t do that,” she said, crossing her arms. “I could have hurt you.”

“Aw, you wouldn’t have. You trained me, remember? I know all your throws.”

“What are you doing here?” Shamir picked up the dropped arrows, storing them back into her quiver.

“I saw the lights on and went to see who was out here so late. Usually it’s just me making sure everything is locked up for the night.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“ Wanna talk about it?”

Shamir glared at her former apprentice. “No.”

“I’m just saying, if you talk about it you might sleep.”

“Cyril, just drop it, okay?”

“If you don’t want to talk to me, maybe you should talk to the Professor. She’s  real good at helping me figure out a problem.”

Gritting her teeth, Shamir replied, “She is the last person I want to talk to about this.”

“Did you two have a fight?”

“No.”

“Then why can’t she help you?”

“Because she is the problem!” Shamir yelled, exasperated. “I can’t sleep because all I think about is her!”

“Oh!” Cyril nodded. “I understand. It took me forever to tell  Lysithea how I felt.” A goofy grin appeared on his face. “She kissed me.”

“That’s...great...Cyril.”

“Anyway, that’s why you should tell the Professor.  So she’ll kiss you.”

Shamir turned beet-red and stammered, “I. ..that’s not...”

“Do you want me to tell her that you want to tell her something?”

“No!” Shamir shouted. “And if you tell anyone what I told you I will haunt your dreams,” she growled. 

“Okay. But the Professor won’t be single forever.”

“She could do better than me,” Shamir muttered, stomping off to bed.

“You won’t know until you tell her!” Cyril called out. 

In reply, Shamir gestured rudely behind her back. This was one secret she was going to take to her grave.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danger! Panic! Manuela? A proposal?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I wasn't planning on putting Manuela in here but she pushed her way to the spotlight for a few minutes. A diva's gotta diva. But also. I love blushing Cyril. He's adorable. I want Lysithea and Cyril to live happily ever after and have many children. I want Shamir to be happy with f!Byleth. I think Shamir likes to tickle Byleth just because she loves her laugh.

Anxiously Byleth paced in the entrance hall, hoping to finally receive word from Shamir. It had been three days since she left. Raphael stayed behind at Shamir’s insistence. 

“I got this,” she told them when she rode off. 

“It’s been three days,” Byleth muttered. “She should have sent a message by now.” Byleth feared the worst. “I should have made Raphael go with her. She hasn’t worked alone in a while.” Chewing on her thumb, Byleth whispered, “Please be safe.” 

* 

A week went by. Though Byleth did not neglect her duties, she spent time near the entrance hall as much as possible. She wanted to be close when Shamir returned, to reassure herself that the sniper was fine. A shout shook her out of her thoughts. 

“Someone’s at the gate!” cried the gatekeeper. “They are in need of assistance!” 

Byleth rushed out of the entrance hall, horrified at the sight before her. Shamir clung to the gate, clutching her side where a nasty wound bled. She was covered in dirt and debris, bleeding lightly from scrapes and scratches. “Sorry, Byleth,” she panted, grimacing at the pain. “I was stupid.” 

“What happened?” Byleth cried, the warm glow of healing magic immediately blossoming on her fingertips. Though Byleth managed to stop the bleeding, she knew much more extensive work needed to be done. Her talents for healing were not enough. 

“I underestimated him. I got caught. He...is worse than we heard...” she trailed off, trying to pull something out of her pocket. “But I found proof.” Between her first two fingers Shamir presented a sheet of paper, slightly bloodstained. “I’m...sorry...” she whispered as she passed out into Byleth’s arms, the paper falling to the ground. 

Panicked, Byleth scooped up the sniper, running to the infirmary. “Manuela!” she yelled. “Manuela!” In her haste, Byleth stubbed her toe on the stairs, cursing at the pain. “Who puts an infirmary on the second floor?” she muttered. “Manuela!” 

The middle-aged brunette poked her head out the infirmary door. “Byleth? What’s the matter?” She gasped, seeing Shamir. “Quickly, bring her inside.” 

“I stopped the bleeding, but not much more. I couldn’t,” Byleth said, setting Shamir gently down on a cot. “I’m not as good as you.” 

“Take off her shirt,” Manuela commanded, opening cabinets and picking out various cleaning and bandaging equipment. “I need to see how badly she’s hurt.” 

Blushing, Byleth removed Shamir’s top from her torso, leaving the breast band in place. She sat down and looked away, not wanting to invade Shamir’s privacy. Byleth held Shamir’s hand, willing the sniper to be all right. 

“Do you know what happened?” Manuela asked. 

“It’s my fault,” Byleth replied, shaking her head. “If I hadn’t asked her to investigate, she’d be okay.” 

“You know better than to think that way,” Manuela reprimanded. “Blame lies at the feet of those who hurt her.” Examining the worst wound, Manuela hissed at the sight. “It’s good you stopped this cut from bleeding. If it had continued, she would have died. As it is, she’s broken a rib in here. This looks like a broadsword wound. Shamir’s a sniper. What was she doing so close to an enemy?” 

“She was spying. I asked her to find out if a certain noble was abusing his position and actively harming his people. She said she underestimated him. Maybe he snuck up on her.” 

“It’s not like her to be careless.” Manuela prodded the area around the wound, trying to determine if more than one rib was cracked. “From what I can tell, she’s mostly bruised. The other scrapes must be from her escape. She’s going to need a few weeks to heal the cut and another couple to heal her two ribs.” 

“No internal bleeding?” 

“Not that I can see.” 

Relieved, Byleth sighed heavily. She squeezed the unconscious woman’s hand and said, “You’re going to be angry when you wake up. I know you don’t like feeling useless.” 

Noticing Byleth’s hand, Manuela asked, “Is there something I should know?” 

Byleth quickly released Shamir’s hand and hastily said, “No.” 

“The lady doth protest too much,” Manuela teased. 

“Don’t tell her, please. She doesn’t know.” 

“I would never!” Manuela winked at Byleth. “Your secret is safe with me. I’ll take good care of your lady love.” 

“Manuela!” groaned Byleth. 

“Besides, think of how grateful she’ll be when she hears how you gallantly rushed her to me for healing! It’s so romantic!” 

“Please, Manuela!” 

“All right, all right. I can take a hint,” she said, eyes sparkling. “Why don’t you go send some people to take care of the brute that did this to our Shamir?” 

Byleth smacked her face. “The paper! I left it on the ground when she fainted! I need that paper!” Hurriedly, Byleth stood up and rushed out the door. She quickly turned around and poked her head through the doorway and said, “Thanks, Manuela.” 

“Of course! Now go!” 

Byleth ran down the stairs back towards the gates. “Archbishop!” called the gatekeeper as she breezed past. 

“Not now, sorry! I have to find a piece of paper!” 

“You mean this paper?” he asked, holding it out for her to inspect. 

“Yes! Thank you!” 

“I noticed you left it behind when you took Lady Shamir to the infirmary. It looked important so I held onto it for you.” 

Byleth hugged the man. “You have my eternal thanks.” 

Paper in hand, Byleth strode to the Captain’s Quarters to give Alois and his knights the command to ride out and seize the noble. 

* 

Shamir’s recovery went agonizingly slow, at least to her. She grumbled at the delay in her plans. “I was supposed to be in Almyra by now,” she pouted. 

“And how are you supposed to travel to Almyra when you can’t even pull your bow?” asked Cyril, pouring Shamir some Crescent Moon tea. 

“Don’t sass me,” Shamir replyed, slowly sipping the hot brew. 

“Me ‘n’ the Professor don’t want you to get worse, that’s all. Besides, if you’d left when you were supposed to, you’d have missed mine and Lysithea’s wedding.” 

“It was a nice wedding,” she admitted. 

He brightened, grinning widely. “It was! And she was so beautiful,” he sighed dreamily, blushing at the memory. 

“Careful!” Shamir said, putting a hand out to stop Cyril from pouring tea onto his foot. 

“Sorry!” 

“Just watch what you’re doing.” 

“I will,” he said, sitting the tea pot on the table. 

“Glad Hanneman and Linhardt figured out how to remove her Crests.” 

“Me too. But even if they hadn’t, I still would’ve married her,” he declared. 

“I’m glad you found someone you care about.” 

“Yeah.” Cyril gazed into the distance, mooning over his wife. 

“So is there a reason you asked me to tea, or?” 

“Oh, yeah. The Professor wanted to talk to you about something but she was going to be late, so she asked me to fill in for a bit so you wouldn’t go anywhere until she got here.” 

“Do you know what she wanted?” 

Cyril hummed non-committally. “I better not say.” 

“Tell me.” 

“It’s nothin’ bad, promise. But it’s a secret.” 

“All right,” she grumbled, sipping her tea. “It better be good.” 

“It is, I swear.” 

Byleth entered the garden as Cyril assured Shamir, smiling. “Thank you, Cyril. Now go be with Lysithea. You’re supposed to be on your honeymoon!” 

He sprang up, blushing furiously. “Right. I’ll go do that. Bye!” 

Byleth rolled her eyes affectionately and Shamir chuckled. “He is so distracted, that boy. But I’m happy for him.” 

“Me too. I see I’ll need a fresh cup of tea,” Byleth said, peering into the cup Cyril left behind. She started to pour but stopped when Shamir placed her hand on her arm. 

“He said you wanted to talk to me about something? A secret of some sort?” 

“He wasn’t supposed to tell you anything,” Byleth sighed, running her hands through her hair. “I’m going to need something stronger.” Byleth pulled a flask out of her waistband and took a long pull. “Don’t tell Seteth.” 

“I wouldn’t dare.” 

Byleth sat down, fidgeting nervously. “First of all, I want to apologize again for your injury.” 

“And I’m going to tell you again that it wasn’t your fault,” Shamir interrupted. 

“Right,” Byleth said, rubbing her hands on her thighs. “It’s just that, if the mission had gone well, I would have tried to convince you to take my spymaster position. So you could stay.” 

Shamir crossed her arms. “Why is it so important that I stay?” 

Byleth licked her lips before answering. “You once said you were hoping to find a more permanent home. If that’s still true, I want you to stay here. With me,” Byleth stammered, pulling something out of her pocket and setting it on the table in front of Shamir. 

Dumbfounded, Shamir stared at the silver ring sitting in front of her. She looked up at Byleth, confused. “Is that?” 

Hesitatingly, Byleth replied, “Yes.” Byleth looked down, afraid. 

“Byleth,” Shamir said, “look at me.” She looked up, meeting Shamir’s eyes, trembling. “Tell it to me plainly. I don’t want to misunderstand.” 

“I love you.” 

“And this ring?” 

“It was my mother’s.” 

“And you’re giving it to me?” 

“If you want it. If you want me.” 

Shamir picked up the ring, admiring the carved intricacies before slipping it on her finger. “What do you know? It fits.” 

“Shamir?” Byleth asked, confused. 

“I think I’ll keep it.” Shamir smirked, taking Byleth’s hand. “And you too, I suppose.” Shamir brought Byleth’s hand to her lips, gently caressing her knuckles. “I might be more trouble than I’m worth, though.” 

Flushing, Byleth replied, “I wouldn’t have you any other way.” 

“Good.” Shamir blushed, squeezing Byleth’s hand. The two sat in comfortable silence, holding hands until their tea went cold. 


End file.
